Up in Flames
by avtorSola
Summary: Twenty-five years of war, yet they lose anyway, and so he's given a choice. Join Aizen and the woman he thought he loved, Hinamori, or die. Either way, there's a fire ready and waiting. He just has choose how he'd rather burn. HitsuHina.


**A/N:** More plot bunnies. And I'm trying to work on a multi-chapter story too... :(

Anyhow, HitsuHina fans enjoy!

* * *

Twenty-five years of fighting...and all it had led to was this.

The room was uncomfortably warm, a stifling heat searing each corner of the cell he was imprisoned in. Chains rattled on his ankles and wrists, constricting his movement. His arms had been handcuffed behind his back, and his ankles had been likewise shackled together, and then to the wall behind him. A kido collar, choking about the base of his throat, sealed his reiatsu with painful, heavy barriers. Panting heavily, he struggled away from the sekisekki wall, face flushed. The heat in this room had taken a heavy toll on his wintry constitution, and the sekisekki bars and reiatsu-sealing collar only furthered the weakness he felt from the deep gash in his back - the blow which had taken him down.

He tried to raise his head and shake the messy white fringe out of his eyes, but as his angle of vision shifted nausea roiled through his stomach. With a sharp, clenching spurt of pain, chunky bile surged up his esophagus and spilled from his lips. He heaved weakly, the last of the thin vomit splattering on the floor, and a shudder wracked his body, forcing him to duck his head and close his eyes as the dizzy spell rolled past.

"Ara, Hitsu-kun, why do ya keep throwin' up all over the place?"

The disapproving voice came from outside the cramped cell, and with fluttering eyelids the prisoner dragged his vision to the man standing before him. Ichimaru's Gin looked out of place in this cesspool, his immaculate white robes billowing about him, and the tall man stepped gingerly around the puddle of vomit. Once safely out of the way, he knelt down, took the pale chin in his hand and dragged the boy almost to his feet. The ice-captain didn't have the strength to resist. He dangled limply from the traitor's grasp, his legs unable to support him. He'd be tall enough to stand if he had been strong enough to do so - he'd had a growth spurt in the twenty-five years since Aizen's betrayal, and now looked to be about sixteen - but unfortunately he was too weak.

"...say, ya don' look too good, Hitsu-kun." he said, his tone thoughtful. The large, spiderlike hand moved the captive captain's forehead, and Hitsugaya flinched away, hatred burning in his feverish green eyes. Of course he didn't look well - he'd been left to starve in a sweltering sekisekki cell for over a week with his reiatsu sealed and his hands and feet bound, for crying out loud.

"...piss off, Ichimaru..." he gasped out between pants, and without warning he felt Ichimaru's fist connect with the side of his face. The world blurred into pain and he collapsed against the back wall, staring forward at the barred opening in a fog of despair. His cheek burned and ached at the same time, his jaw dislocated and painful.

The former captain picked him up by his kido collar, anger smoldering in those slitted red eyes, and Hitsugaya strained against his handcuffs for a brief second before the world swirled again and nausea again rose to fill the hollow of his shrunken stomach. Ichimaru watched with a sort of sick pleasure as the defeated captain faded in and out of awareness, then decided to take a risk and punched the smaller man in the stomach. _Hard._

Toushiro's flushed face went white, and Ichimaru dropped him to the stone floor just as another splash of bile-thinned puke forced its way from the unwilling lips. Unable to stand or lift his face from the floor, the ice-captain did nothing as the disgusting translucent fluid dampened his long, matted white hair. For a moment, Ichimaru pitied the teenage boy, felt the barest flicker of compassion towards the young genius who had been so terribly protective of both Hinamori and Matsumoto. He sighed.

"Ya could escape from this, Hitsu-kun." he said, drawing a bleary glare from the prisoner lying slumped on the white floor. "All ya have to do is swear loyalty ta Aizen-soutaicho."

The derisive blaze in Hitsugaya's emerald glare flared bright and stirring, and with a lisping, agonized whisper, he spoke through the dislocation of his jaw.

"...go...to...hell..."

Ichimaru frowned, tapping his lower lip with a finger.

"Well, at least think 'bout it, m'kay?" he said seriously. "Aizen-soutaicho's givin' all the captains a month ta consider the offer. If ya join him, all this goes away and ya get your title back. If ya don'...well, he's gonna execute ya."

Without waiting for an answer, Ichimaru turned on his heel and stepped outside the dingy cell, securely locking the door behind him.

"See ya soon, Hitsu-kun!"

* * *

The Fourth Division came in to care for his injuries soon after Ichimaru left, and he couldn't help but wonder if the man had sent them. As Hanatarou popped his jaw back into place with a painful _snap_ and applied a stinging poultice to the deep wound between his shoulder blades, Hitsugaya mulled over Ichimaru's offer in his mind. Not to join - no, he'd never do that - but how to reconcile the pounding in his chest with his impending death sentence. He wouldn't be able to escape without outside help, but he didn't know who was alive and who was dead, and more importantly...he didn't know who had defected to Aizen's side.

Isane came in to help a few minutes later as the young healer swept about cleaning Hitsugaya's cell. She carried a folding cot in her arms, a subordinate behind her carrying a large tub of steaming clean water and a comb. Together, she and her assistant bathed the fevered captain, cleaning the refuse and vomit from his skin and clothes and combing his tangled, waist-length white hair. He protested their help, of course, but the collar about his throat, the presence of sekisekki, and his recent malnutrition kept him as weak as a newborn lamb. He was forced to submit, forced to lay down in the stiff cot (never mind that he'd fainted in the bath, that was irrelevant).

Gently, Isane slid a feeding tube into his nose and down his throat, causing the feeble captain to choke a bit, and Hanatarou held his hands out, glowing green with healing Kido. Hitsugaya struggled to focus, his breathing rapid, then asked his question as he watched the nutrient syrup being pumped into him through the tube.

"Who's...who's joined him?" he rasped out. Isane looked him straight in the eye.

"Unohana-taicho, for healing. Zaraki, for bloodshed. Kurotsuchi, for science. Soifon and Kuchiki-taicho, to uphold the new laws. Ukitake-taicho, because he does not want to see more death." she listed blankly. "Each of the aforementioned divisions followed their captains' decisions. And then the Third, Fifth, and Ninth have joined, along with the First. Komamura is dead, and so Iba has joined as well. The men have not the willpower to resist anymore - the only divisions who have not given in are yours and Kyoraku-taicho's."

Hitsugaya stared, horror flickering across his face, finally understanding the hopelessness of his situation.

"...only two?" he whispered. Isane folded her hands in her lap and nodded solemnly.

"Yes sir."

* * *

It hurt so much that she was here, begging him to surrender. It hurt _so much_. She'd chosen Aizen over him. Chosen to abandon the boy that had kissed her scraped knees better and cut her slices of watermelon even though he would rather have eaten the entire thing himself. Chosen to desert him, even though he'd loved her for so long.

She was leaving him to die.

"Shiro-chan, please!" Hinamori whimpered, her hands clasped beneath her chin. She'd also grown since the war's beginning - not so much in height, but in other ways. Her sweet, naive personality, however, had not changed. "Aizen-soutaicho is a good man. He's giving you a chance!"

Toushiro scowled at the ceiling. He was still weak, even though it had been two weeks since Isane had put the tube in his nose. It hadn't gone yet, much to his displeasure, but after his first attempt to bolt for the door, he lay bound to the bed, harsh steel manacles linking his hands to the uncomfortable mattress beneath, and a mixture of poisons and drugs were administered through that tube to keep him docile. The Fourth Division had protested, of course, but Aizen was immovable.

He was either to swear his honor away and grovel like a good little boy, or he would be executed alongside any of the Captains who also wished to share his fate. The choice was cruel - death, or selling his soul to a tyrant.

"I have no chance, Hinamori-san." he replied flatly, dying inside as he heard Momo's gasp of shock and misery at the sudden distance he'd put between them. "I can sacrifice neither my pride nor my morals for the sake of my own life. Aizen is a murderer and a traitor."

Hinamori clutched at the bars to his cell, the tear tracks from her brown eyes evident on her face.

"He's going to execute you, Hitsugaya-kun!" she pleaded, and Toushiro snapped.

"And you're going to let him, aren't you?" he snarled, the luminous jade of his glare burning holes in the young lieutenant's heart. "You're going to stand at his side and watch me die, aren't you?"

Momo stammered, eyes widening, and Hitsugaya cut her off, furious now.

"You chose Aizen over me! Again!" he spat, trying to rise from the cot he was shackled to. "You left me to rot in the Rukongai with all the people who treated me like the plague! You left me floundering on my own in Seireitei to join the Fifth, just because you had some stupid infatuation with Aizen! And you had the _gall_ to believe Aizen's letter even though you'd known me for decades - had the _gall_ to believe that I'd ever do something which could hurt you so badly! And now! You've turned your back on everything the Soul Society stood for to follow a man who nearly killed you and taunted me with your bloody corpse! And now you're trying to get me to renounce _everything_ which I've _ever_ staked my soul on, just so that you don't have to admit how _evil_ Aizen is!"

Hinamori stared, trembling, at the white-haired prisoner, at the rage in his eyes. Hitsugaya was breathing heavily, chest heaving irregularly, and it was clear that whatever poison he'd been given that day was taking a terrible toll on his lean body. With a pathetic cough, red came up his throat and trickled from the corner of his lips. Hinamori watched, stricken. She swallowed hard.

"That's not..." she started, and Hitsugaya leveled his infamously cold glare her way, turning the ice on full blast.

"You made your choice, Hinamori." he said coldly. "Now leave. I don't associate with backstabbers."

Her face pale, Hinamori backed away from her friend's cell, shocked into a sort of trance. Hitsugaya's glare didn't soften.

"I loved you once." he admitted emotionlessly. "I wish I never did."

Hinamori fled, and Hitsugaya turned his implacable jade stare onto the sekisekki ceiling, cursing Aizen's name, because he _still_ couldn't let Hinamori go, despite everything that had happened.

A single droplet of saltwater rolled down his cheek.

* * *

"Captain Hitsugaya."

The voice was Kuchiki's, stoic as ever, but filled with a deep respect. The Sixth Division Captain stood outside his cell, three rows of guards following along behind him. Each of the black-robed shinigami save Kuchiki wore a concealing facemask. Hitsugaya turned his head, carefully schooling his face into a disdainful neutrality. Ichimaru had come in to visit him earlier that week, so the violent violet of a black eye overshadowed most of his face, but he was no longer chained in bed with a tube in his nose. His collar was attached to the wall behind him, as were the shackles on his wrists and ankles, but he was now more free to move about in his prison.

"What." he said flatly, not even bothering to turn the short word into a question. Kuchiki's wrist shifted, revealing that a kido bracelet had been wound about the man's arm - a bracelet designed to intermittently seal reiatsu. With a start, Hitsugaya realized that was how Aizen was controlling at least some of the other captains, and his respect for them took a sharp turn up. Kuchiki-taicho's eyes closed, his face crinkling in distaste.

"Aizen-soutaicho wishes to know your answer." the stoic man said distastefully. Hitsugaya scoffed lightly, but quickly grew solemn. His month was up today. With a deep, slow breath, he sealed his fate.

"He's an asshole." Hitsugaya said bluntly. "I would not lower myself to becoming his pet."

Kuchiki's steely-grey gaze went soft unexpectedly and he let out a great sigh, uncharacteristic of him.

"You choose execution?" he asked. Toushiro's young face was set.

"Anything over serving Aizen." he said resolutely. And Kuchiki nodded, then motioned to the guards. The twelve guards came into his cell and with several whispered apologies and mentions of direct orders, the blows started. Hitsugaya made no sound despite the brutality of his guards' behavior, understanding now that he was not alone in his vendetta now. The Gotei 13 had chosen to make a martyr of him, and that he understood. If his death was meant to symbolically rally the Thirteen Divisions, then he would gladly accept that role. He had accepted his execution even when he knew that resistance was pointless. Now that it meant something, he felt a sense of validation that buoyed his damned spirit.

A particularly sharp punch caught him in the temple and he spun dizzily, dropping like a stone into the waiting grip of the man behind him, who hoisted his arms away from his torso, exposing his stomach. Another of the guards, eyes stricken by guilt, fit a pair of brass knuckles over his fist and slammed the weapon into Hitsugaya's abdomen.

The young captain coughed blood sharply, a short wheeze echoing around the room as the metal bruised the soft organs unprotected by his ribcage. And the beating continued, until the white head was matted with warm red blood and hung low, the shinigami suspended between two of his guards only half-conscious. Long black cords snaked out and were attached to the kido collar about his throat, each one held by a different member of the group, and slowly Toushiro was dragged from his cell and down the long hall.

Kuchiki, his hands shaking with rage, brought the young man from the depths of the prison were he'd been incarcerated and to a large platform which Aizen had erected in front of the First Division's barracks. All of the divisions were in attendance, even the lone belligerent division - the Tenth. Kyoraku had yielded to Aizen's will the day before the deadline, so he stood cowering alongside his fellow captains. Hitsugaya's will was the only one that remained unbroken, and now his former colleagues felt for themselves their guilt anew.

As Hitsugaya, head down, his battered body limp, was hauled roughly up onto the stone platform where Aizen stood, sneering, Kuchiki fell into position at the head of his division. And the ceremony began. Hitsugaya felt a rough hand grip the back of his head and force him to his knees in a supplicant's bow. But even bruised and bloody as he was, he railed at the force on his shoulders, struggling against the hands which held him.

"Hitsugaya Toushiro..." Aizen said softly, his tone contemplative. "You are charged with high treason to the authority of the Soutaicho and have been found guilty. The penalty for this is - and has always been - execution."

Toushiro threw off the hands keeping him pressed into a bow and stumbled back to his feet, ignoring the restraining hold across his biceps.

"Tell me something I don't know, usurper." he sneered. Aizen's face darkened, and without warning he drove the hilt of his Kyoka Suigetsu into Hitsugaya's already-abused abdomen with astonishing force.

The pain was immediate and Hitsugaya couldn't stop the weak whimper that dripped through his teeth and over his tongue alongside the spurt of blood that boiled up from his stomach. His knees gave out from under him, leaving only the guards on either side of him keeping him upright. The cries of anger and fear from his division were instantly silenced. Aizen approached, grabbed him by the throat and lofted him into the air. Aizen had always been taller than him, and twenty-five years hadn't changed that despite Hitsugaya's newfound height of 168 centimeters. (5'6")

"How's this, Hitsugaya-kun?" the sadistic man said, watching as the young man choked in his grasp. "Shall I tell you a secret, then?"

His oxygen fading fast as the pressure on his windpipe increased, Hitsugaya wheezed out a strained " _damn you."_ For that brief moment, Toushiro felt the tyrant contemplating his words. But then Aizen spoke, and everything went to hell.

"I know how you died, Toushiro-kun." the older man said, false kindness evident in his voice, and he loosened his grip on the boy's throat so that Hitsugaya's consciousness couldn't fade. The entirety of the Gotei 13 sucked in a sharp, horrified breath, watching as Hitsugaya's face went from a warm, pale tan to a ghostly white. Records of each shinigami's death were kept secret, and with good reason. Death was the most traumatic event a soul could experience, and should anyone learn of another's death and use it against them...suffice to say the results were enough to break even the most seasoned of shinigami. The fact that Aizen had taken the time to find the method of Hitsugaya's death spoke volumes.

This wasn't an execution. An execution was quick, often painless, and done without ceremony. But if Aizen was going to do what everyone thought he was going to do...then this would most likely be drawn out, painful, and dramatized simply to terrify the young captain.

This was cold-blooded murder.

Aizen brought Hitsugaya over to the tall wooden stake set in the stone platform and secured the boy's hands high above his head with yet another set of metal chains, forcing the young man to stand on tiptoe or risk snapping both of his wrists. Then Aizen stepped away, smirking at the flickering panic on Toushiro's smooth young face.

"It's starting to feel familiar, isn't it?" he asked, his voice black. Hitsugaya's emerald stare was wide, the oblique angles of his face rounding out to make him look almost as childlike as he had all those years ago, when Kurosaki Ichigo invaded the Seireitei for the first time.

"Ai-aizen..." he breathed, and the new Soutaicho smiled cruelly.

"I read all about it." he said casually, well aware of the havoc he was wreaking on the Gotei 13 beneath him. The stirrings of rebellion were already beginning. "How your village shackled you to a tall wooden pole just like this one..."

Matsumoto stared in horror at her captain as he started to shake, and as wood drenched in oil was piled at his feet, and she understood her captain's aversion to heat all at once. She glanced over at the Fifth Division and glared at Hinamori's empty place. The young woman had refused to attend her childhood friend's execution, claiming that she had to do something, and Aizen had excused her.

Just to hurt her captain.

"...and burned you alive." Aizen finished, taking pleasure in the fear creeping across Toushiro's face. Ukitake stepped forward then, his voice rising in panic, as did the others' voices.

"Aizen-soutaicho, don't torture him like this!" the sickly captain said, spitting out the title with some difficulty, and Aizen rolled his eyes, reaching into his pocket for a remote and pressing a button. The bracelets on each of the captains' wrists sparked with electricity and a shock went through them all except Gin and Kaname, bringing them all to their knees.

"Silence." Aizen said coldly, reaching out to stroke Hitsugaya's angled cheek with a sort of morbid tenderness. The Tenth Division Captain whimpered, his resolve dissolving in the face of suffering such a terrible death again, and Aizen smiled, the sound of striking flint and the smell of sulfur filling the air.

"Any last words?" Aizen taunted. The lit match burned brightly between them, and a tear spilled down Toushiro's ghost-white cheek. The terror on the teenager's face was heartbreaking.

"Ai-aizen...d-don't..." he whispered, but the man just shrugged carelessly.

"No...I suppose not." the man said cruelly. Then he tossed the small spark into the oil-soaked kindling. Flame roared up immediately, sending up billows of black smoke, and Toushiro began to thrash wildly despite his abused state, terrified. Aizen watched him with a sort of sick pleasure.

"Sayounara, Hitsugaya-kun." he said formally, watching as the fire ate its way up the oil towards the struggling captain. The ice-captain held his tongue, trying desperately to keep a brave face, but he was crumbling rapidly in the face of repeating his death. And everyone could see it. His division watched, horrified by their captain's agony, and without thinking Matsumoto ran forward, trying to get to her small taicho's side. But then Kira and Renji were there, holding her arms and keeping her back, their expressions pained.

"Taicho!" she yelled, but the two dragged her away, muttering apologies and weak condolences, and as everyone watched, the edges of Hitsugaya's hakama flickered into flame, and his composure shattered. He cried out, his face screwing up in pain, tears running down his face freely now, and the sharp, piercing sound broke off. He coughed irregularly, gasping in agony, black smoke puffing from his lungs and screamed again, his voice cracking and weak as the inferno licked his skin, climbed his thighs and started up his torso, torching the fringes of his long white hair.

Hitsugaya writhed against his bonds, the world dissolving into acid smoke and burning fire around him the dirty streets of his old village materializing in his mind, the shrieking chants of angry, vindictive men and women echoing in his ears even as he burned. The vicious laughter, reverberating in his ears at the sound of his screams, at the sight of his torment.

And then...

"Bankai! _Tensa Zangetsu!_ "

The howl tore him from the agonizing memory and with a rush of wind and the sound of splintering metal-on-metal he felt a strong arm wrap around his charred waist and carry him a safe distance away. The flames wavered in the sudden rush of air but surged back to life when the movement stopped, and for several seconds more he felt the fire piercing tendrils of its burning flame ever deeper into his body, burrowing towards his core. He wanted to scream, but the smoking torture and thick black puffs of ash had left him breathless and so he just whimpered, contorting in excruciating agony.

"Dance, Sode no Shirayuki! First Dance! Tsukishiro!"

He could see the white glow of the ground beneath him even through his blank vision, but then the temperature took a sharp dip, and he felt ice close over him, snuffing out the flame and searing his melted skin with frigid fire. Everything blurred, went cold and numb and distant, as if he was falling down a long tunnel made of snow. He couldn't cry out - the cold had frozen him through to his heart, and there was no clean air in his lungs anyway.

He was cold for the first time in his afterlife, and it scared him.

Through the haze of burning - _freezing? He couldn't tell_ \- pain, he felt a hand on his shoulder, a burst of cool, soft reiatsu - Kuchiki? - cracking the world around him, and then there was light in his face and oxygen in his mouth, and the world faded in and out in blazes of Kido.

"Hado 11, Tsuzuri Raiden! Hado 33, Sokatsui!"

A flash of gleaming blue fire raced along a network of fine woven Kido - was that a Fushibi net? - as a sudden network of Kido spells enveloped the air, and then the sharp chattering noise of breaking glass reached his ears. He stared uncomprehendingly, watching as the black bands around each of the other captains' wrists broke apart at the burst of vehement, peach-scented Kido. With a roar, they and their divisions below swarmed over Aizen, Ichimaru, and Tousen like maddened bees.

Then he felt a sweet scent touch his nose, and abruptly Hinamori was kneeling next to him, tears in her eyes, her hands trembling and her face drenched in sweat. She gave him a strained smile, reached out and touched his face. He winced, coughing again and crying from the pain of his burns, shivering from the pain of reliving his death if even for a moment. But he looked at her, saw the net of Kido in her hands, saw the way the strong thread entangled Aizen, Ichimaru, and Tousen helplessly, and knew.

"...you planned...this all...along...didn't you?" he whimpered, his voice cracked and sooty, broken by pain. She let out a soft sob, ran her fingers through a few of the burnt strands of white hair. He'd been trying to grow it out before Seireitei had fallen...but it had been razed to his chin by the flames.

"I...I'm so...so sorry, Hitsugaya-kun..." she said, her voice choked. "I...I meant to bring them through sooner...but I couldn't slip through the Senkaimon fast enough...and Aizen...Aizen..."

For a moment, she couldn't speak, but her hand drifted down her childhood friend's face and down the side of his neck, never touching him, and Hitsugaya kept his eyes forward, too frightened to see the charred remnants of his burned body. He knew it was bad - he could barely feel his legs anymore, and his torso still felt like it was on fire, lungs included. He choked, emerald stare flying wide, as his mind reopened the lone memory he had of seeing his own corpse. For a moment, he couldn't see anything but black and red and charred grey bone, but then he forced the image from his mind, shaking and weak, his strength deserting him in waves. And Hinamori, upon seeing him so utterly destroyed, finally found her courage.

"...You were always my choice, Hitsugaya-kun." she said determinedly, her hands tightening on Tobiume's hilt, and then Kurosaki Ichigo stood behind her, his usually-scowling face creased by worry. While his human body had aged to an appropriate age, his soul had only shown the stress of few of those twenty-five years, so he barely looked twenty now.

"Inoue!" he called, and Hitsugaya - blearily, fading fast - saw the auburn-haired young woman bounce into view, her kind grey eyes fixated upon him in horror.

"A-Ayame! Shuno! S-Soten Kisshun! I reject!" She said, the abject revulsion on her face quickly giving way to an unusual dark anger. She knelt on the terracotta roof at Toushiro's side, placing her hands on the golden barrier, her eyes narrowing in both grief and rage. All around them chaos seethed as Ichigo, Chad, Yoruichi, Kisuke, the Vizards, the Captains of Seireitei and _was that Shiba-taicho?_ fought to subdue Aizen and his cronies, but Hinamori and Inoue stayed hovering over him, anxious. The gold light washed over him, around him, easing the strained, smoke-laced coughs he choked on, dimming the blazing pain consuming him, and he found himself drifting away.

Somewhere deep inside himself, Hitsugaya realized that even if he survived, he'd never be quite the same after such an ordeal, and from the look in Hinamori's eyes, she knew it too.

The last words he heard before the darkness swallowed him was a name, and a single, solitary command.

"Bankai. Momoiro no Tobiume!"

* * *

Hinamori was furious, but she wasn't the only one. She could feel Matsumoto's wrath seething with lavalike ash in the fray below her, the Tenth Division's fury roaring like the embodiment of their icy captain's soul. And the other captains - oh, they were a sight to behold. Kyoraku-taicho's face was twisted in a snarl, Kuchiki-taicho's eyes burned with dark, simmering hatred, and even kindly Ukitake-taicho's usual gentleness had given way to a glutinous hate.

Momo watched the golden barrier curve over her childhood friend's pallid face, watched the strain and grim anger consume Inoue wholly, and knew finally that she'd have to avenge Hitsugaya or die trying. So she raised her blade, allowing the Kido wrapping around her to dissipate, and spoke the name blooming upon her spirit.

"Bankai. Momoiro no Tobiume!" she shouted, and as Aizen and all the other fighting turned to look at her in surprise, pink Kido energy spun around her, vortexing upon her blade. She stood strong, waiting for the reiatsu to stabilize, her glare fixed upon her former captain's face. Then Tobiume melted in her hands, glowing pink until the sword wrapped around her waist and solidified, curving into a simple pink sash around which a length of odd pink chain with a simple, sharp scythe attached to it was tied over top of the sash, like an elaborate, tough-chick obi.

Momo unhooked the scythe from her belt and examined it critically, then grasped the glowing pink chain more tightly in her hands and raised it above her head.

"Snap, Tobiume!" she commanded, her voice ringing with a strength that didn't seem to be hers, and suddenly the chain split in two from the where the scythe was attached and the two identical pieces peeled away from each other like a split hair. An amorphous pink sphere hung from the end of the second chain, and as everyone watched it slowly formed into the unmistakable shape of a crescent moon - the same weapon that formed when Hitsugaya went into Shikai.

The first chain - the one with the scythe - melted away, the pink energy returning to the sash and chain around Hinamori's waist, and she took the moon-blade in her hand and held it out for Aizen to see, her expression smoldering.

"Since Hitsugaya-taicho cannot kill you, I'll will do it in his honor." She said, her voice firm. Aizen raised an eyebrow, smirking.

"Why, Hinamori-kun." he said kindly. "You have already seen Kyoka Suigetsu's Shikai. You cannot hope to defeat me."

At that, Momo laughed, her voice sweet, her eyes glowing with pink light.

"Kyoka Suigetsu relies on illusion, which is a Kido-based power." she replied evenly. "My Tobiume is the strongest of the Kido-type Zanpakutou. It's an easy matter for me to unweave your illusory net."

Aizen's eyes widened, but Hinamori had already lunged for him, pink Kido whiplashing violently around her, and as the others watched in awe, the tendrils of pink latched onto invisible fragments and laced through them, pulling them back into a recognizable shape some thirty yards to the right of where Aizen's illusion stood. It was towards this figure that she headed, the pink imitation of Hitsugaya's weapon slicing through the air in front of her.

With a sharp, screeching burst of Kido energy, Kyoka Suigetsu's illusion exploded into pink shards. Aizen - the real one - reared back in surprise, grasping for his Zanpakutou's blade, just in time to deflect the sharp crescent blade. Hinamori let out a shriek of anger and jerked her hand on the chain, entangling Kyoka Suigetsu's keen blade in the Kido chain.

"Raikou!" she yelled, and a flash of vicious pink Kido-lightning shot from the pink chain and sash around her waist, striking her former Captain with unnecessary vehemence. Aizen was pushed backwards, right into several of the other captains' waiting blades. With a wordless scowl, Kuchiki-taicho sent the myriad petals of his Bankai hissing towards the traitorous man. Aizen Shunpoed away, landing neatly in Kurosaki's range. He realized his mistake in milliseconds, Shunpoing again, only to land in Hirako-san's way.

They had him surrounded.

"You won't get away from us this time, Aizen." Ukitake snarled, his voice ragged with malice. Everyone cast the respected captain nervous glances - it was extremely unlike him to be so angry. Aizen blinked in surprise, his eyes flicking from side to side. He was completely cut off from Tousen - who had been defeated by Shiba Isshin, Iba and Hisagi anyway - and Ichimaru, who'd disappeared under Matsumoto's ash, Kira's weight, and Soifon's speed.

"Momoiro Kusari!" Hinamori shouted into her former captain's distraction, and with a single spin on the balls of her feet the sash around her waist expelled several bursts of Kido energy in quick succession. The pink flashes shot towards Aizen, stretching around him and cutting off his escape as they formed chains of her Spiritual Pressure. Then they tightened, entangling the traitor's arms and legs in a web of simulated steel. Aizen struggled for a brief moment, but without the advantage of his Shikai he could only do so much to fend off his attackers. Finally the man went relatively still, growling in insane rage, and Kyoraku, who was the most senior of the captains left, looked around the ring of captains, Vizards, humans and assorted ex-Shinigami. Then he turned to Hinamori, his voice solemn.

"Hinamori-fukutaicho." he said quietly, and the young woman turned to him, the tear tracks still not quite dry on her face. Kyoraku sighed.

"Hitsugaya-kun...is very close to you, is he not?"

Momo glanced back at the golden dome, her eyes watering again as she beheld her friend's still form. Her long cocoa ponytail swirled in the breeze of reiatsu.

"Yes sir." she said, her voice choked, and Kyoraku closed his eyes.

"Then out of all assembled here, your vengeance overshadows ours." he declared, his tone soft. "So finish him, Hinamori-fukutaicho."

At that, the Vizards leapt forward, irate. Sarugaki Hiyori was the first to speak.

"Half-a-second, baldy!" she snapped. "That bastard Hollowfied us! We've got first dibs!"

Kyoraku shook his head slowly, his face compassionate and angered.

"No, you do not." he said. Anger in his eyes, he turned to Hirako and simply looked at the blonde man. "Shinji...Aizen tried to execute Hitsugaya-kun in the same way that he died."

Shinji's eyes went round, and the Vizards went abruptly silent, the enormity of that statement hitting them hard. Hiyori swallowed hard, her objections suddenly dying off. She shot a nervous glance towards the fallen captain, then turned her glare on Aizen. Ichigo looked at them in confusion.

"Eh...Kyoraku-san, I don't understand..." he said uncomfortably. Hinamori turned to look at him, tears standing in the corners of her eyes again. Ichigo shifted from one foot to the other, discomfited by that grieving gaze.

"...Death is the most traumatic memory a soul can experience, Kurosaki-san." Momo explained, trying to keep from crying, if only for Hitsugaya's sake. "In Soul Society, those records are kept under the utmost secrecy, because every soul who has ever been confronted with reminders of their death has, without fail, developed such a severe case of PTSD that they will oftentimes cease to function."

She didn't wait for Kurosaki's eyes to widen before continuing.

"But Hitsugaya-kun was forced to relive his own death..." she whispered. "It's the cruelest possible way to kill another soul. The most barbaric, evil, _sick_ way to kill another shinigami that the perpetrator of such a crime is given - willingly given - to the demons of Hell. It's the only punishment sufficient for an act of such heinous proportion."

Ichigo stood speechless, uncomprehending for several minutes, but Momo was already walking forward, her Bankai soothing and pink about her waist.

"By all rights, this revenge should belong to Hitsugaya-kun." she said shakily. "But because he cannot do this...I will."

She took a deep breath, gathered her reiatsu, and called upon her Zanpakutou's greatest power - Kido.

Aizen scowled at her.

"You would kill your own captain?" he asked, his voice laced with that false kindness, and Hinamori held the incantation firmly in her mind before dissolving the words before they could reach her lips. She looked at him.

"I never knew my captain." she said softly, and Aizen's eyes widened. But it was too late for him.

"Hado 90. Kurohitsugi." the words were soft, her hand outstretched pointing loosely at Aizen, and then the black box formed, closing around her former captain with solemn finality. A scream tore from inside the box, and Hinamori leapt into the air, the pink sash about her waist shining like a miniature sun, and pulled the moon-blade into her hand. Then she threw it at the dark box as hard as she could. The pink spread over the Kurohitsugi like poison through veins from where the moon-blade had bit into the heavy Kido, reinforcing the spell with unprecedented reiatsu and piercing through the interior of the box.

Hinamori landed lightly on her feet and yanked the imitation of Hitsugaya's blade back into her hand just as the Kido spell ended. Aizen stood standing for a few moments, sightless eyes fixed upon the sky, blood weeping from his mouth. A moment later, his body crumbled into chunks of flesh which smelled like plums and were seared with pink fire.

Momo half-turned, watched as the hunks of Aizen's body collapsed into a small pile.

"That was for Toushiro-kun." she said softly. "For my friend."

And for the first time in her life, she turned her back on Aizen Sousuke.

* * *

Life took on some semblance of normalcy after that, with the lone exception of Hinamori's promotion to Fifth Division Captain. Tousen and Ichimaru were imprisoned, and Aizen's soul - the bloody fragments of it, anyway - were tossed through a portal to Hell, where the man's spirit would inevitably reform, powerless and doomed to wander in agony for the rest of eternity. Kurosaki, with his father's blessing, deserted the World of the Living and his thirty-six year old body to become the Captain of the Ninth Division, and shortly afterwards he and Kuchiki Rukia announced their engagement. It came as a surprise to most that Kuchiki Byakuya was willing to let his little sister get married to Kurosaki - of all people - but it had happened, and the Kuchiki clan was funding their wedding.

The Vizards were also extended the invitation to stay by the new Soutaicho, Kyoraku, and most of them took up the offer, though Hiyori, Hachigen and Lisa stayed stubbornly attached to the World of the Living. Rose once again took over the Third Division, and Shinji, at Kyoraku's request, took the Eighth. Yet through all of this, one seat stayed obstinately empty.

The Tenth.

"Ah, Unohana-taicho..."

The Fourth Division Captain turned from the young patient before her to face the speaker, and her gaze softened.

"Hinamori-taicho." she greeted calmly. "Are you settling in well?"

Nervously, Hinamori stepped into the room, the sleeveless white haori billowing about her as she walked towards her friend's sickbed. She nodded wordlessly, then reached out and brushed her fingers over the Kido barrier which hovered over Hitsugaya's face, keeping him locked in a deep, painless sleep free from nightmares.

"How is he doing, Unohana-taicho?" she asked, trying to stay strong. Unohana sighed, folding her hands into her sleeves.

"To be honest, I don't know." she said softly. "His body is healing well, and I think he would be ready to wake if not for..."

Here the silence took over, speaking all the words that neither woman could, and Hinamori's face crinkled up.

"I wish Aizen really had been dead, that day when Kurosaki-taicho invaded." she said bitterly, Hitsugaya's sleeping face absorbing all of her attention, and Unohana agreed quietly. The hospital room was peaceful for the next several minutes, the only sound the whisper of the gentle breeze from outside Hitsugaya's window. He stirred briefly, his cool reiatsu rising to lick at Hinamori's pink power which lay sleeping inside her, and the two strands of reiatsu mingled for just a moment, Hinamori's pink warmth embracing the subdued frigidness of Hitsugaya's cold power. But before he could wake the Kido shield above him activated, gently coaxing his consciousness back into sleep, and his reiatsu dimmed back to the faint wash of arctic frost it had been before.

Momo stood entranced, then turned to the Fourth Division Captain, a flicker of hope in her eyes.

"I felt him." she said softly. "He responded to my reiatsu - let it support his, if just for a second."

Unohana's lips curved up at the news.

"Then I suppose he does not need to stay asleep any longer." she said thoughtfully, and tapped the barrier with her finger, undoing it with a swift stroke. Hitsugaya stayed asleep, however, the lingering effects of the Kido spell still influencing his mind, and Unohana smiled at Hinamori gently.

"I will call for you when he wakes, but I'm sure you have work to do now." she promised, and Momo nodded her thanks in understanding of the clear dismissal and Shunpoed away, returning to her Division with the full assurance that her Shiro-chan was recovering. So when the alarm sounded later that night and the speakers began blaring a warning, Hinamori wasn't expecting to hear that Hitsugaya had run away from the Fourth Division.

She stiffened and shot from her desk, bolting outside to where her subordinates were listening to the loudspeaker, stricken. Normally, it wouldn't be a problem if Hitsugaya escaped the Fourth early - an alert would be sent by Hell Butterfly to each of the Divisions, telling them to return him at once if he was found. It was actually a fairly common occurence with him, actually. But since Aizen had so carelessly toyed with his mind, Unohana had preemptively listed him as mentally unstable.

And an unstable captain was a dangerous one.

Hinamori listened, growing pale, then swallowed her fear and looked out at the assembled mass of her Division.

"We have our orders." She said finally. "Fan out in a search pattern and look for Hitsugaya-taicho. Do _not_ engage him if you find him; he's stronger than me still, which means he'd overpower anyone else easily. If he seems agitated in any way, don't attempt to capture him with Kido. Try to convince him to calm down and return to the Fourth before you do anything else. If he attacks you, you have full permission to return fire, but remember - he is most likely not in his right mind. If you can help it, don't hurt him. Have I made myself clear?"

The Fifth Division saluted, and the squads formed and headed out. Her Third Seat stayed behind, however, watching her for a moment. Then he spoke, his voice nervous.

"Hinamori-taicho...you know where he's going, don't you?" he asked. Momo glanced at him and shrugged her shoulders.

"I...I have a hunch." she said, gathering reiatsu to the soles of her feet and getting ready to jump. Her Third Seat shifted his weight uncomfortably.

"Should I take my squadron and go along with you?" he asked. Momo shook her head.

"No. You search with the others, just in case I'm wrong." she ordered. Her Third Seat nodded and vanished in a flash of Shunpo, and mere milliseconds after he went, so did Hinamori, her mouth set in a grim line as she raced towards the Tenth Division's barracks. Her haori, brand new and whiter than new-fallen snow, flapped madly in the air behind her. Tobiume hummed worriedly at her side, and she calmed the sword with a wordless touch. They both hoped that her hunch was wrong.

She arrived in the Tenth with a quiet rush of wind and leapt down into the mostly-deserted Division corridors below. Matsumoto had clearly ordered everyone out to search for her tiny taicho, a decision driven by love. But Momo knew her little brother, and so she'd come back here.

She ran through the empty hallways and across vacant courtyards in the moonlight, urgently hoping that her hunch wasn't right, that she'd misjudged her best friend's character, but as she burst into Hitsugaya's private courtyard she saw him.

He was standing half in the shadow, still clad in the hospital yukata, his emerald eyes luminous in their desperation and confusion, his hands shaking furiously. It was clear that he was unbalanced, though not entirely gone. However, the terrifying part of the picture was Hyourinmaru, gleaming in the light of the full moon, the hilt grasped weakly in Hitsugaya's trembling fingers.

The blade was pointed towards his heart.

Toushiro was completely focused on the glint of light on his blade, staring at it. If he ended himself now, he'd forget everything. He wouldn't have to remember Aizen's taunts, the feel of fire climbing his skin, the agony of writhing against heated steel chains while his skin melted off his body. A shuddering gasp escaped him. He wanted to die, to let go, to vanish...

It hurt so much, this throbbing in his chest, this pounding which told him that he was alive.

He thrust Hyourinmaru towards his chest, his tears rolling down his cheeks, but just as the blade nicked his skin the world went spinning and he felt a weight settle on him, knocking him over and tearing his blade from his hands. He howled in mixed anger and fear, trying to claw away - _he wasn't going back to Aizen, dammit_ \- but the figure pinned him down, ignoring his wild thrashing. He heard a voice, a familiar voice, speaking to him as if from far away, but he couldn't understand the words and it terrified him.

 _Not more fire, please no more fire, please please please..._

"Shh...shh, Shiro-chan, shh..."

He froze. That name...that name...it was...

"Hina...mori...?" he whispered, his voice shattering on the last note, and suddenly he could see that it was _Momo_ holding him down, that it was _Momo_ with her arms wrapped around him, that it was his _Momo_ talking to him, her words calm and soothing.

"...Shh, Shiro-chan." she said, brushing the tears off his cheek with a gentle thumb. "Shh...it's okay."

He stared at her, his head swimming, chest heaving. Hinamori was here...she was _here_ , not with Aizen, with _him_ , hugging him in the exact way that she used to when they were both children in the Rukongai, before any of this mess began.

"You're...here...?" he asked, his face childlike, his voice very small, and Hinamori smiled through the tears she'd cried and nodded.

"Of course, Shiro-chan. I'll always be here." she replied gently. His tears started up again, a slow trickle down the sides of his face.

"B-but...Ai-aizen..." he stuttered, and Hinamori shook her head.

"I killed him." she revealed quietly, and Hitsugaya stiffened beneath her, his struggles suddenly evaporating. She looked at him.

"I killed him because he hurt you." she said simply, and Toushiro burst into a sobbing mess as the burden weighing so heavily on him lifted. The slight nick in his chest bled a little bit and upon seeing it Hinamori's eyes welled up and she sat up, releasing Toushiro only to pull him into another embrace so he could cry on her shoulder. She held him tight as he dissolved, exhausted and broken by the suffering he'd gone through at Aizen's hands, stroking his soft white hair gently. Then she drew back a little bit and put her hand over Toushiro's damp eyes.

"Inemuri."

Hitsugaya swooned into her lap, the tear-tracks still wet on his face, but he slept now, the Kido spell knocking him out easily in his distraught state. And Hinamori spiked her reiatsu, sending a pink flare high into the atmosphere. Within minutes, Unohana and Matsumoto had appeared in the courtyard, each accompanied by a squad of their men, and Kurosaki arrived a minute later. Hinamori looked up at them, a sad smile on her face.

"What happened, Hinamori-taicho?" Unohana asked carefully. Momo's gaze dropped a bit.

"He tried to commit suicide and I stopped him." she said softly, watching as Matsumoto winced, but then she lifted her gaze and looked firmly at Unohana.

"He was confused." she said. "Disoriented. He thought Aizen was still alive - that I was Aizen, perhaps - and it took him much longer to recognize me than it should have. But when he did..."

Unohana's gaze softened.

"He calmed down."

It wasn't a question, but a statement, and Hinamori nodded slowly.

"He stopped fighting me, at least." she mused. "But he started crying. So...I put him to sleep for now."

Unohana came over to the pair, laid her hand on Hitsugaya's pale forehead. He flinched a bit at her touch and shifted closer to Hinamori, curling his body towards her as if seeking comfort. The Fourth Division Captain smiled faintly at that.

"You gave him something to stay for, Hinamori-taicho." Unohana said softly, looking at the young man with compassion. "Your appearance brought him back."

Hinamori blinked, looked down at Toushiro's tearstained face and began to stroke his white hair again, puzzled.

"What does that mean, Unohana-taicho?" she asked, her voice small. Unohana dark blue eyes were kind.

"It means that Hitsugaya-kun will be just fine." she said, gathering the young captain up into her arms. She paused, then amended her statement and gazed seriously at the Fifth Division Captain.

"Or rather...he will be fine as long as you support him, Hinamori-taicho." Unohana said, her tone firm. Hinamori started in surprise, caught off guard for a brief moment, then regained her footing and sighed.

"Unohana-taicho, when Hitsugaya-kun was in prison, I went to see him once." she said softly. "Aizen told me to convince him to swear loyalty, and I still had to play my part. So I did. And Hitsugaya-kun told me something that I'll never forget."

Her eyes burned in her face, and she clenched her fists tightly.

"He told me that I'd chosen Aizen over him." she said. The wind whistled through the branches of the lone tree in Hitsugaya's courtyard. "And I had. I realize that now. But when I turned my back on my captain...I chose Hitsugaya-kun."

She touched Tobiume's hilt, brushing her fingers over the warm surface and lifted her face to the stars.

"He was supporting me, watching over me for so long...without me ever noticing. So it's my turn to support him now."

Unohana, Matsumoto, and Kurosaki stared, blinking. Then Matsumoto's face softened.

"Momo-chan...you've really turned into a brave young woman." she said fondly. "I'm glad my captain has someone like you."

Momo giggled a bit, blushing at the compliment, before sighing again.

"I just hope Hitsugaya-kun can forgive me for being so stupid." she wished and at that Matsumoto laughed aloud.

"Momo-chan, my taicho would forgive you for anything. The only thing you have to worry about is forgiving yourself." the older woman said wisely. Then she seized Hinamori's arm and began to drag her off. "But I can help you there - I've got a whole case of sake back in my room!"

"Mou, Rangiku-san, let me go!"

* * *

 _(Eight months later)_

"Tag! You're it!"

"Oi, Hinamori! Get back here!"

Hinamori laughed, watching as the white-haired young man gave chase, his Shunpo easily surpassing hers. He wore his shihakusho again, the brilliant white of his haori hiding most of the black garments, and Hyourinmaru was slung over his shoulder, gleaming proudly from a recent polishing. His wild-as-ever hair was freshly cut to a short, layered fringe about his face and he had a thick chunk of unruly bangs hanging over one eye, accentuating the brilliant green. He'd been let out of the Fourth earlier that morning, after the extensive joint therapy from both Unohana and Momo had been pronounced fully successful, though he wasn't fully cleared for active duty yet. Hinamori was making the most of that time possible - as soon as he had to get back in that stuffy office of his, she was sure he'd clam up.

"Got you!"

She squealed as Hitsugaya's hands wrapped around her waist and lifted her into the air.

"Mou, Shiro-chan! Put me down!"

She could almost feel the smirk on Toushiro's face through where he'd buried his handsome face in her shoulder, and he shook his head.

"...Nah."

He spun around thrice, making Hinamori laugh in a mix of amusement and indignation, then set her gently down on her feet and took a step back, arms folded over his chest. He _was_ smirking, Hinamori saw, a flare of mock-outrage making her puff up her chest, tossing her ponytail over her shoulder.

"You insufferable genius." she teased, pretending to be grumpy and watching as Toushiro's smirk widened into a grin. Time to tone down that ego. "Do you always sweep ladies off their feet so grandly?"

The snow-capped teenager went pinker than Tobiume's Bankai, and suddenly became flustered.

"Hinamori!" he protested, huffing in his usual grouchy way. "I don't 'sweep' anyone off their feet!"

It was Momo's turn to grin.

"Mou, you just did that to me!" she pointed out, causing the pink flush on Toushiro's face to turn bright red. He scowled, making Hinamori laugh, and started to walk away, sulking. But Momo wouldn't let him get away so easily. She caught up to him, her haori billowing, and smiled.

"Aw, is my Shiro-chan embarrassed?" she asked, eyes glinting, and Hitsugaya huffed again, refusing to answer.

Yet the fringes of a smile touched his face, and as she slipped her hand into his, entwining their fingers, that smile bloomed into full flower, the ice around the edges of his persona melting away. Hinamori looked at him, at the beautiful smile on his lips and sighed, wondering how she could have ever been so blinded by Aizen.

After all...Aizen didn't even begin to compare to the young man at her side. Aizen had been cruel, manipulative, false...the one redeeming factor was his good looks. But even so! Hitsugaya was twice as handsome as Aizen could've ever been, and on top of that he was honest, caring, spirited, passionate...the list went on.

"Hinamori? You okay?" Hitsugaya asked, concerned, and Hinamori sighed again, gazing at him. "...Hinamori?"

"I love you so much, Toushiro." she said then, nuzzling her face into the hollow where Hitsugaya's neck joined with his shoulders, his soft hair tickling her cheek. She could feel his heartbeat speed up beneath her chin, the rising warmth ghosting up his neck. He was definitely embarrassed now, even if he hadn't been before, but that didn't stop him from being the gentleman he'd always been at heart and lowering his chin to rest atop her brown head. He stopped walking, slid both of his hands, now free, up her back until her had her securely in his embrace.

"...I...I love you too, Momo." he murmured, blushing like a nervous schoolgirl but staying completely sincere. "...I'd be completely lost without you."

"And probably dead several times over." Hinamori interjected dryly, referencing the three suicide attempts that the Tenth Division Captain had made in the early stage of his illness, where he'd still had a hard time separating the past from the present. Hitsugaya winced a bit, biting his lower lip.

"...you're going to hold that over my head forever, aren't you?"

Momo smiled and kissed Hitsugaya's smooth cheek. He went rigid, eyes opening wide, and blinked owlishly at her for several long seconds. She smiled, an impish playfulness darting across her face.

"Only when I want something." she said slyly, pulling the taller boy onto a more deserted street. Hitsugaya stumbled after her, breathless, nervous, and Momo cupped his face gently, guiding it closer to hers as soon as they were a little more hidden. She smiled, her expression sweet, when they were mere centimeters from each other.

"Well?" she asked, caressing Toushiro's smooth cheek with her thumb. Hitsugaya's breathing hitched a bit.

"Momo...what are you asking me to do?" he whispered. Hinamori smirked.

"Figure it out, genius." she replied and with a sudden surge of confidence the ice-captain stepped forward, the green of his gaze dark, and slid his left hand to the back of Hinamori's head, pulling her closer. A devious smirk washed over his face, and his right hand dropped to ghost lightly over Hinamori's hip and waist. Then he lowered his lips to hers and kissed her gently. For a moment the Fifth Division Captain stood stunned, paralyzed by the sparking electricity searing her mouth, the cool burn on her lips. But then, just as Toushiro started to pull back, a humiliated pink flush on his face, she reached out and tangled her hands in his downy white hair and forced his head to stay in place, keeping their mouths joined.

Hitsugaya groaned - Hinamori hadn't exactly been gentle with his hair - but he couldn't help the smile that curled his mouth against Momo's. His head was going pleasantly fuzzy, probably because he hadn't breathed in so long; if he died like this he'd die happy and in the meantime he'd attribute the blissful blur to Momo's intoxicating scent and taste.

They broke apart finally, Hitsugaya gasping for breath, Hinamori panting like she'd just run a marathon, still caught up in each other's arms. Momo smiled, stood on tiptoe and brushed her nose against Hitsugaya's, staring into his eyes. He was blushing, as was she, but that same beatific smile adorned his lips, lighting him up like the alluring full moon.

"...is this what being drunk feels like?" Toushiro breathed, the world around them shut out tightly. Momo giggled a bit.

"...I don't know." she whispered back, her face glowing with joy. "But I like it."

Toushiro nodded breathlessly, the jade of his expressive gaze fixed firmly on Momo's pretty face. His hands drifted up, cradled her face in his cool palms.

"...Me too." he confessed. Then he dove in for another kiss, and Momo met him, the whites of their haoris blending together. This one was sweeter, less awkward with inexperience than their first, and as Toushiro's head tipped to one side, Momo locked her arms around the white-haired captain's neck and pressed him to the wall of the nearest building, trapping him between her body and the hard stone. He let her pinion him, let her have her way with a twinge of amusement, because of all the people in Seireitei, she was the only one whom he would ever willingly yield to.

Momo drew back to gaze at the young man before her, though she kept him pinned to the white wall, and slowly dropped her head to rest on his chest, wrapping him in a tight hug. Toushiro hummed contentedly and returned the embrace, then smiled a bit, his grip tightening.

"Momo?"

Hinamori looked up at him, her gaze questioning.

"Shiro-chan?"

Hitsugaya sighed, nuzzling his face into her brown hair.

"I feel like I'm on fire again when I'm with you...but if this is what loving you feels like..." he trailed off softly, causing Hinamori to fret a little bit. The ice-captain still had vivid nightmares of the flames licking over his skin, and more often than not she or Unohana had to calm him down with a mild sedative before he'd stop panicking. If the sight of her started triggering his flashbacks...

She tried to pull away, but Toushiro's grip was strong, and he refused to let her go. Instead, he just smiled, closed his eyes and whispered into her ear.

"...then I want to burn forever."

And so Momo's answering smile ignited the kindling between them, and they dissolved into flames.

* * *

Any thoughts? Critiques? Cookies? Etc?


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